


60. Relaxing Sam

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [60]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	60. Relaxing Sam

_**Ryan ([](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/profile)**_[ **kwanten**](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/)) sets out to relax Sam  
 **players only. current.**

Ryan frowns at the fragrant lasagne on the table, then picks it up and shoves it into the oven to keep warm. It's not so much that he minds Sam missing dinner - he understands that Sam often has to work late - it's more that he worries like a mother hen that Sam isn't eating right, isn't sleeping enough. Isn't getting enough pampering, because there's simply not enough time for it. He's pretty sure that Sam is still getting enough sex, although in the past week of work, that area of their lives has definitely taken a hit as well. Ryan huffs a sigh, one eye on the clock, then chews on his lip in determination. He heads into the bathroom to gather up a few items, and then strips down to his boxer shorts so that he'll be ready when his lover arrives home.

It's dark by the time Sam gets home and, as grateful as he is to be there, it feels like he's dragging his ass from the car to the door. Christ. He must be getting old. Which makes him laugh a little. Old at thirty-four. He lets himself into the house and drops his bag just inside, calling out, "I'm home."

"Hey." Ryan puts down his book and gets up to greet his lover, slipping his arms around Sam's waist. "I missed you. Have you eaten? Are you hungry?" he asks, smoothing the hair off Sam's forehead and not even giving him a chance to answer before he kisses him.

"There you are." Sam laughs, his smile slightly sheepish. "Sorry. Um. No and yes, starving, and I missed you too," kissing back. "So much." _So_ much.

"Ooh, c'mere then," Ryan says, breaking the kiss to take Sam's hands and tug him to the kitchen. "Sit," he commands, leaping at the chance to nurture his lover. He grabs potholders and pulls the lasagne out of the oven, putting a generous slice onto Sam's plate before fetching him a beer from the fridge. That done, he takes his seat next to Sam with a beer of his own. "Good day, I hope?"

Sam nods. "Yeah, just exhausting," he says, taking a bite of lasagne and groaning as his tastebuds go into overdrive. "Mm. Oh my god. This is so good," he mumbles, shoveling another bite into his mouth, too hungry to be concerned with etiquette.

Ryan relaxes and watches his lover, delighted by Sam's obvious appreciation of the meal, though he does chuckle softly at the speed of consumption. "They've been working you really hard," he murmurs, kicking back his chair onto two legs and taking a swallow of beer. "Is this what most shoots are like?"

"Actually, a lot of them are far crazier than this," Sam admits, even though he's tempted to lie. "Usually I don't really notice because everything just blends together and there's no one waiting at home or anything."

"It's different now, eh?" Ryan loves that, loves knowing he's made a significant change to Sam's life. All for the better, most days. "Really different. I've got plans for you tonight."

"You do, do you?" Sam grins, taking another bite of lasagne and a long drink of beer.

"Yeah. So I hope you're not tired anymore," Ryan teases, knowing the chances of that are pretty much nil. "I'm kidding. You want seconds?"

Sam shakes his head. "Maybe later." His grin widening. "Right now, I want to know what your plans are."

"Ahhh, you're so good to me." Ryan grins, thrilled that Sam didn't just give in to exhaustion and put him off from the start. "Get naked. I want you in bed," he says, finishing off his beer.

"Yes, sir," Sam says, slowly shaking his head as he polishes off what's left of his beer and pushes back from the table, heading for the bedroom. "On my back or what?" he asks over his shoulder, already tugging his t-shirt up over his head.

"Mmm, on your front." Ryan gets up to put their dishes in the sink, and nearly drops a plate because he's too busy watching the slow reveal of Sam's body. _Mine_ , he thinks, and happily follows Sam down the hall.

Sam drops his t-shirt on the dresser inside the door and kicks his jeans free by the bed, crawling onto it and stretching out like a starfish, limbs to all four corners. "You sure you want me on my stomach?" he teases, glancing over his shoulder. "I might fall asleep on you."

"For once, that'd actually be okay with me," Ryan answers. "I want you totally relaxed. When you come home to me, nothing from the outside world can touch you." He climbs onto the bed and straddles Sam, sitting low on his hips, and picks up the bottle of massage oil he left waiting on the bedside table. In a moment a light scent of tea tree oil fills the room, and he lays his hands on Sam's shoulders.

A soft groan spills from Sam's lips at the simple touch. Just the feel of Ryan's hands on him. That intimacy. "Mm. Smells nice," he murmurs.

Ryan's lips curve in a smile. He slides his hands over Sam's shoulders, feeling the heavy musculature beneath his fingers. And he can't help that it turns him on, but he can ignore it, beginning to gently work out a knot low on Sam's neck. This is an important part of being a boy to him, and he's thankful every day that their relationship has made it this far.

Sam groans into the pillow, feeling the stress in his body, in his muscles, start to respond to Ryan's hands. His magic touch. It's funny how often he doesn't even realize just how tense he is until Ryan touches him, until it starts to drain away.

"That's it," Ryan whispers, feeling Sam melt beneath his hands. He works his way down his lover's spine one vertebra at a time, carefully massaging. Seeking out spots of tension and rubbing them with his fingertips.

Fuck. It feels _so_ good. As does the hardening ridge of Ryan's cock against his ass. And Sam can't help himself. Tilts his hips back a little, casually, his own cock throbbing, trapped between his stomach and the bed.

Ryan groans, then draws in a sharp breath at the pulse of blood in his cock. "God, Sam," he whispers, tracing Sam's muscles with his fingers. Less massage now and more caressing, unexpectedly silky skin beneath his touch. "This is supposed to be your time."

"So?" Sam doesn't see how this changes that. "Take your shorts off."

It takes Ryan a second to catch up, but then he rolls off Sam and shimmies out of his boxers, kicking them to the floor. Straddling his lover again and breathing a kiss over Sam's nape.

Sam shifts, getting Ryan's cock between his cheeks, his eyes still closed, everything, every single thing narrowed down to smell and feel and god... "Keep touching me," he whispers.

Ryan nearly loses it right there. He leans down again, his cock rubbing against Sam with every minute shift in position. Touching. Licking. Drowning his lover in sensual touch, and loving him with his whole body.

"Fuck," Sam moans, reaching for Ryan's hands and twining their fingers together, pushing them above his shoulders, almost to the headboard. His hips rolled, Ryan's cock nudging against his hole, the tip slick with precome. "Want you inside me."

With a soft whimper Ryan reaches for the lube, quickly slicking his fingers. He presses one into Sam, swiftly adding another and leaning down to lick slowly along Sam's spine as he stretches him.

Sam groans, the sound tinged with both need and frustration as he shifts yet again. "Don't. Just... take it slow."

 _Fuck_. Ryan pulls his fingers away, wiping them on the sheet. He spreads Sam's cheeks with his hands and fits cock to hole, smearing the tight muscle with precome before starting to push inside.

Breath hitching hard with the first streak of pain, Sam moans into the pillow, the damp spot beneath his stomach spreading. He reaches back for Ryan's hands, twining their fingers again and pulling him down against him. "Slow."

Something about the intimate moment makes Ryan forgo his usual _Yes, Sir._ "Okay," he whispers, kissing Sam's neck softly. He hitches his hips and pushes a fraction deeper, pressing his lips to Sam's skin again and again.

"Oh, fuck," Sam whispers, his throat so dry he can barely breathe, barely speak. His eyes shut tight, he loses himself in the feel of Ryan moving over him, into him, pushing slowly deeper, the pain streaking through him and then settling, dulling, fading away with each and every fraction.

Ryan nudges Sam's legs a little wider, sinking deeper. Their bodies align and he covers Sam, feeling a gut-wrenching wave of protectiveness wash through him, mixing inextricably with roaring lust.

Rocking back against Ryan, Sam groans, wordless sounds of pleasure spilling from him again and again. "Tell me," he whispers. "Tell me how it feels."

"God," Ryan moans, scrambling for words when his brain is a muddy wash of desire and need. "Sam," he gasps softly. "God, I'm so deep inside you, baby. You're so fucking tight for me. I love you, Sam. I love you."

"I love you too," Sam whispers, his cock throbbing, so achingly hard beneath him, every shift of his hips seeming to stretch him just that little more, Ryan going even deeper. "Oh, god, fuck. I wish we could stay like this."

"We could try," Ryan murmurs through a smile, moving deep as he can into his lover. And stopping, his whole body straining for more.

Sam gives a soft laugh and shifts under Ryan yet again. "Lemme... God. Just keep it slow," he murmurs, getting his knees up under him, his legs spread wide, the angle making him gasp.

"Ohhh fuck that's good," Ryan groans, dropping his hands to brace against the bed. "You feel so fucking amazing," he whispers. "So..." he licks Sam's nape and grinds slowly against him.

"Yeah. So do you," Sam moans, so on edge he can't believe he hasn't come yet.

Reaching around, Ryan closes his fist around Sam's cock. He begins slowly stroking, in time with the deep easy thrusts of his cock. Pleasure building like a tidal wave in his body.

It's only through sheer willpower that Sam holds out any longer once Ryan wraps his fingers around him. He buries his face and what would otherwise be an obscenely loud moan in the pillow and reaches back, spreading his cheeks for Ryan, the increased stretch, the vulnerability of being so open making his head swim and his body flush through with pure pleasure.

"Jesus Christ," Ryan breathes, overwhelmed. "Sam..." His hips hitch faster and he drops his head back, his climax rushing up to blind him as he explodes, searing his lover. Claiming him.

Sam cries out, lifting his head from the pillow, his body clamping down hard on Ryan's cock as his own spurts, thick and hot, messing the sheets beneath them. His eyes open but unseeing as jolts of pleasure ripple through his entire body.

Ryan whimpers, the clench around his cock even tighter now, milking him for every drop. Achingly slowly he comes down, his body still blazing, his hands moving in a slow caress on his lover's hips, ass, thighs.

"Oh, god," Sam moans, letting go of his cheeks, his hands going to the bed, his cock still throbbing, empty, every last spurt spent beneath him.

"C'mere," Ryan whispers, slipping out of his lover's body and pulling Sam down to the bed with him. He cradles him, arms wrapped around in an embrace. Pressing his face to Sam's hair and simply breathing him in.

Sam buries his face in the crook of Ryan's shoulder, not quite clinging but close, still too mind-blown to say anything really.

They stay like that for a long time, Sam drifting in and out, half-asleep even at the same time as he's aware of Ryan holding him, kissing him, comforting him. But finally he rouses a little, tilting his head back to look at Ryan. "Hey," he whispers, smiling softly. "Did I ruin your plans?"

"Hmm?" Ryan actually has to take a moment to remember just which plans Sam is referring to. "Oh. No, you played into my hands perfectly," he says, and gives his best approximation of an evil overlord chuckle. Softly.

Sam laughs. "Okay. Good. I was worried maybe I'd taken over," he says, brushing his lips across Ryan's.

"I just wanted to get my hands on you and get you relaxed," Ryan breathes against Sam's lips, sliding his hand down his lover's back. "I think we accomplished those missions." Hell, he damn near melted himself.

"Yeah, we did," Sam agrees, still stunned at how much he'd let go, given himself up to Ryan. "It doesn't bother you? Me wanting you to fuck me? Spreading myself for you like I did?"

"God, no. Do I look stupid?" Ryan asks, pulling back to meet Sam's eyes, but he's genuinely baffled. "Sam, you're... the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen. You damn near killed me tonight."

Sam grins. "Good. I'm glad," he murmurs. "It's just - a lot of boys don't want that. They'd be unhappy if they were fucking their sirs at all much less as many times as you have been lately." Which, really, is way more times than Sam's been fucked in years.

Ryan gives that serious consideration, and slowly nods. "This isn't like any relationship I've been in before," he agrees, "but it works. I couldn't possibly be happier." His lips curve in a sly grin. "And I love fucking you. _Really_ love it."

Sam chuckles, feeling his cheeks go warm. "Good, because honestly? I love having you fuck me. And if you really want the truth, I think I've spread my legs for you more in these past couple of months than I have, period, in the last five or six years." 

"Really?" Now that is awesome to know. Ryan slides his hand down to cup Sam's ass possessively. "Keep doing it, then. Just so long as I get to spread my legs for you, too." He's pretty sure he doesn't have to worry about that part. Even with Sam's schedule being so insane, Ryan is still getting fucked at least twice a week, and that doesn't even touch on all the stolen blowjobs. Not to mention the mind-blowing fisting.

"You can count on it," Sam says. "And just wait until I get you back home with our own playroom set up." Christ. He's hard again just thinking about it, his cock pressed insistently against Ryan's thigh.

"You're going to love it," Ryan promises, shifting slightly to feel Sam more against him. "I've been working with a Citadel rep. Found the perfect St. Andrews Cross the other day, it'll be delivered a day or two after we get back." He'd never thought he would enjoy shopping quite so much.

"Yeah?" Sam grins. "Once we get everything set up, I'm going to turn every inch of you black and blue." His grin widening, his cock throbbing. "And best of all? I won't even have to gag you. Just let you scream all you want."

Ryan grins, moving to grasp Sam's cock and slowly stroke. "And then we'll order in for two days straight, because I'm not cooking," he says, his fingers tracing over the head, the large vein, feeling his lover's cock swell impossibly more beneath his fingertips.

Sam gasps, groaning softly as Ryan touches him. "Works for me," he says, pushing Ryan onto his back and moving between his thighs. "Legs up."

"Yes, Sir." Ryan's grin is wickedly mischievous. He doesn't just bend his knees, but instead hooks his ankles over Sam's shoulders, twinkling at his lover. All that yoga's not for nothing.

"One of these days I'm really going to test how bendy you are," Sam says with a grin, lining up and sinking in, a soft curse spilling from his lips.

"Ohfuck," Ryan gasps, the angle making for a hell of a deep penetration. "Sam. Sir!"

Sam braces his hands against the headboard, keeping the angle just as it is as he pulls out to the tip, right to the very tip, and slams in again. And again. "So... black and blue and unable to cook, and fucked so many times you can barely sit down..."

Ryan cries out, every sharp hitch of Sam's hips leaving him raw. He fists his hands in the bedsheets. "I'll... I'll be a useless boy," he gasps, struggling to grasp the thread of the conversation. "Good only for sex."

Sam nods, shoving in still harder, his cock seemingly deeper than it's ever been. "Nothing but a fucktoy. A hole to be used." He grins. Gasps. "Might have to just tie you down over a table so I can come in and fuck you whenever I want and then leave you there for the next time."

 _Fuck_. That surely shouldn't thrill Ryan half as much as it does. But the words, the idea, combined with the punishing drive of Sam's cock, _god_... Ryan whimpers and hooks his arms behind his knees. Fucking taking it.

Cock throbbing at the whimper, Sam picks up his pace, fucking Ryan so hard his teeth actually ache with it. Harder and harder still until he lets out a roar and comes, hot and thick and heavy, every fucking pulse flooding his boy's ass, filling him up, claiming him again and again.

Ryan cries out, clamping down hard. "Sir!" he shouts, his body on fire, every nerve lit up. "Please! Please, Sir, let your boy come!" he begs, sure he could do it without a touch.

Sam nods, staring down at him, watching his face. "Do it."

Ryan whines, his body seizing up around Sam's cock. He jerks against the bed, back snapping into an arch as he comes, intense pleasure flooding him to his fingertips.

 _Fuck._ The clench of Ryan's hole around him drags yet another spurt from Sam's cock, the ripple of pleasure that runs through him so hard and so violent it's almost like another orgasm in itself.

Gasping for breath, Ryan slowly drops his legs to the bed, wincing only slightly at the strain in his thighs. "Christ," he whispers, and reaches for Sam. "Come here."

Sam goes, draping himself over Ryan and kissing him softly. "That was incredible," he whispers, still panting for breath.

"Mmm-hmm." Ryan nods; he's in no position to argue. "Might skip my morning run tomorrow," he murmurs after a moment, his lips curving. He'll be feeling this one for a while.

"I don't blame you," Sam says, unable to stop smiling. "I wish I could skip work. Play hooky for a day."

"Yeah." Ryan brushes Sam's hair off his forehead. "But there can be another massage waiting for you when you get home tomorrow, if you want one."

"Hm. Let me think..." Sam tries to keep a straight face but ends up laughing. "Are you kidding? Of course I want one," he says, kissing Ryan again. "Want your hands on me anytime."  



End file.
